The Dark Side of the Sun
by expectopadfoot
Summary: "Great! So I'll pick you up within an hour for the date. Yeah?" without waiting for an answer, he disapparated. There goes my chance of catching the 'Dark Auror', she thought bitterly. She was pretty sure Harry Potter just escaped through her fingers. OOC, Grey Harry.


_A/N: Not my usual story. It's darker and more intense than my other works and contains OOC characters with a fairly AU universe. Post-Hogwarts one-shot. Hope you enjoy. Just so you know, the song 'A Hard Day's Night' is a Beatles creation._

**The Dark Side of the Sun**

He noted the absence of guilt. And it did not bother him.

_That's a pleasant improvement. _He thought happily. The feeling of guilt was quite irritating. He didn't want it anymore, and was thankful that it didn't come to him anymore, either.

He couldn't remember the name of the dead man that lay on the cold marble floor. The man's last human expression was etched to his face: fear. An all-consuming fear that comes with death. The fear that comes when you look in to the eye of your assassin and you know there is no way to escape death... this time.

A sudden 'pop' sound alerted him. There weren't any anti-apparation wards set up yet, so he didn't bother to go offensive. He could do that later if the situation demanded.

"I think we've met somewhere."

He turned around to see a brunette in Auror robes. He snorted.

"Really? It's too dark to say that. What makes you think so?" he asked with humour. The woman didn't answer and pointed her wand at him and muttered 'Lumos'.

"Hey, that's rude!" he complained, shielding his eyes from the light with his hands.

"And killing people isn't?" she said sarcastically, still not being able to place the messy black hair.

"Mind if we take this conversation outside? It's a little smelly here." He said with a hint of irritation in his voice. She voiced her agreement and together, they went outside.

"Merlin's lacy knickers! Potter?" the woman whispered in shock.

"I didn't know Merlin was fond of lacy knickers. So how can I help you, Davis?" he said with a crooked grin.

"How... how do you know my name?" she asked with a frown. It was too dark to read the name on her Auror badge.

"Tracey Davis, Slytherin house, best friends with Daphne Greengrass, highest mark in Astronomy in OWLs and then dropped it in NEWTs, not that I am judging you, mind, dated Blaise Zabini for four months and then broke up because he had a secret affair with Draco Malfoy, trained by senior Auror Albert Tuffman at the Auror's Academy and became an Auror after three and a half years. Had an affair with Alan Conners, but broke up about five months back, reason unknown. Want anything more? And you might want to close your mouth. You are normally pretty, but impersonating fishes does not emphasize your beauty." He finished with a smirk.

She closed her mouth with an audible snap. As a year mate, she knew Harry Potter from Hogwarts. And who wouldn't, seeing he was the bloody Boy-Who-Lived? In their sixth year, she even had a little crush on him, but it went away after the little Weasley girl latched her claws on the boy hero. She didn't think he knew of her existence. Why would he bother to know a plain girl from Slytherin, who had nothing but a mere Potions class common with him?

She was shocked to hear him recite things from her life like he knew it all by heart. It was very creepy, and slightly flattering.

"How do you know all these? Have you been stalking me?" she asked suspiciously. He laughed in amusement.

"I remember the things from Hogwarts. And I haven't been stalking, no. I just gathered some information about you."

"That's flattering. But why?"

"I like to do some research on my stalkers." He replied easily.

"What are you talking about? I don't stalk you." She scowled at the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

"Well, you didn't know it was me you were stalking. I know you are trying to catch the 'Dark Auror', as they like to call me in the Prophet." He said in a dark voice.

"I didn't know it was you." She said uselessly.

"You don't say?" he said sarcastically. She didn't acknowledge the taunt and pressed on.

"But how on earth did you know? I made the request directly to the minister... oh!" she deflated. Of course, Minister Shacklebolt would share anything with the Saviour if he asked for it.

She asked for a special unit to catch this 'Dark Auror', as the daily Prophet dubbed the mystery-man-who-is-actually-Harry-Bloody-Potter. He first made the news by killing an innocent head of an ancient pureblood family, who was later found to have been a major fund source of escaped Death Eaters. He continued his assassinations at random time intervals, the victims always seeming innocent at first, but later found to be connected to criminal groups. The most chilling part was his method of killing. All of the victims were shot with muggle guns, and all of the shots were at the stomach. He didn't shoot twice. He tied them down as the stomach acid slowly spread and the blood drained from the body. It was a painful death, lasting fifteen to twenty minutes. It was horrific.

The minister refused. "He is getting rid of the troublemakers. Why would you want to stop him?" he asked with some irritation.

"What if he kills an innocent person the next time? And criminals should be tried, not killed. The war is over, Minister!" she remembered telling her boss, who became indignant.

"Auror Davis, this topic is not open for discussion. The ministry is not doing anything to scare away a potential ally. If you are determined to catch this person, do it at your own risk. And you better have solid proof of his crimes if you actually do bring him." With that, she was dismissed.

"Did the minister know about you? Is that why he refused to let me catch you?" she asked disdainfully. He, however, looked surprised.

"What? No! No one knows about my dark side. Kingsley is sidetracked by the love of his chair. He is slowly turning into another Cornelius Fudge. He just likes to pretend everything is alright and enjoy his power. He was the best person to fix up the Wizarding World after the war, but he isn't suited for peace time." He said sadly. There was a short silence.

"Why do you do this?" she asked softly. He smiled without humour but didn't reply. After another pregnant pause, he said, "How about we have dinner in one hour and we can catch up with everything?" Seeing her distrusting look, he laughed.

"You wound me, Tracey. If I wanted to escape, I wouldn't take the bait you left for me. Yes I know this motherfucker was just a decoy. He wasn't even on my list. I killed him just to humour you." He said with a charming smile. The combined effects of the words and his smile sent shivers through her spine. Swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the sudden dryness of her mouth, she nodded.

"Great! I will pick you up within an hour for the date, then. Yeah?" Without waiting for an answer, he disapparated without a sound.

_There goes my chance of catching the 'Dark Auror', _she thought bitterly. She was sure Harry Potter just escaped through her fingers. It didn't explain why he took the bait if he knew about it. Maybe he was just bluffing. Maybe he really didn't know that she intentionally let the recently captured Death Eater to escape from the ministry holding cells after placing a tracking charm on him. Maybe he just made a wild guess and...

_I need coffee._ She rubbed her temples to ease the blunt headache that was forming. Taking a deep breath, she disapparated from the place.

...

"Tolly!" she called, as she landed just outside her door. As an Auror, her home was protected with wards that prevented anyone, including herself, to apparate inside the house. There was just a spot in the bathroom she kept free of the wards, in case of an emergency, but no one else knew about it. Not even Daphne.

"Mistress called Tolly?" a house-elf appeared in front of her, looking expectantly at her.

"Make me a cup of coffee for me, will you? I'll go take a shower." The house-elf nodded and then vanished from sight.

Pulling the Auror robes over her head and depositing it on the sofa (Tolly would take care of it when she would see it), she went upstairs. She took a glance at the weekly 'The Lovely Witch' that was sitting on her desk. It was a new magazine that threatened to dominate the market, overtaking 'Witch Weekly'. The editor, Romilda Vane, could give Rita Skeeter a run for her money any day for persistence and false information. Though she haven't mastered doing hurtful stories yet. The readers loved her, anyway.

She got rid of her tank top and leggings she wore under her uniform and stepped in the bathroom. Senior Aurors weren't obligated to wear uniforms and she was looking forward to getting out of the boring grey robes with the Ministry logo stamped on the left breast.

As the magically warmed water hit her shoulders, she let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes before aligning her head to the stream. Gradually, her whole body relaxed and she increased the temperature of the water. The sharp hot water drops eased away all the pains in her muscles. She spent the whole day doing paperwork, and sitting the whole day wasn't something she or her body liked. She had anticipated a fight with the 'Dark Auror', but as it turned out, she had to remain satisfied with a little chat where she was revealed that the Saviour had an alter-ego (a dark one) and knew a disturbing amount of details about her, and he was reluctant to share his reasoning behind the crimes he committed, and politely brushed her off with a false promise of dinner.

She wasn't a fool. She knew he wouldn't come near her again, and even if she told on him, it was the Saviour's word against a common Auror's. She was more likely to lose her job than capturing him. Turning off the water, she poured some shampoo in her hand. With a sad smile, she massaged her head with the shampoo. It reminded her of Alan, her last boyfriend. For some strange reason, he was allergic to her favourite shampoo. While that wasn't the main reason, it played a small part in their break-up. She loved him, but he had lots of issues regarding her. Jealousy, overprotective, trust issues, you name it. He was from an ancient pureblood house and grew up with the knowledge that women are meant to be in the kitchen while men brought money. He asked her several times to leave the job and concentrate just on him. After several blazing rows, she finally told him that they should- no, they must break up. She didn't particularly like coming home to a grumpy boyfriend who would start a fight over the smallest of things. She felt quite relieved when she moved in this flat. She did not have a guy to love her or even shag, (not that Alan was a deal breaker. He was good, but nothing special on bed) but she didn't have to answer to anyone over her actions, either. She was free. And that was better than anything else.

She turned the water on once again. The shampoo was slowly washed away and she felt her brain calm down. She loved this sensation of her brain 'cooling down'. It helped her to take decisions that she normally dreaded taking, because she was scared of taking wrong decisions.

At the moment, she decided to stop chasing Harry Potter. She knew he could defeat her in a duel with his eyes closed and right hand glued on his arse. She knew he couldn't be proven guilty. He was too smart and too popular for that. Not to mention he was quite handsome too. The dark green eyes and the messy raven hair, along with the prominent jaw and straight nose made him a very desirable wizard, and his mysterious personality was an added bonus. Personally, she found the whole 'dark-alter-ego' stuff quite alluring and when he told her that he killed the escaped Death Eater just to humour her, she found it quite a turn-on.

The water was getting cold now, and she turned off the shower. Wrapping herself in a clean white towel, she grabbed another towel to dry herself. She could dry herself magically, of course, but there was something very satisfying in doing it manually. Besides, drying the hair magically removed the scent of her shampoo which she loved. She put on a bathing robe and picked up the steaming coffee that waited in her desk and sank to the inviting loveseat. She took a sip and felt the hot coffee warming her insides. With a wave of her wand, she turned on the wireless that also sat on the desk. A song called 'A Hard Day's Night' by the band 'Unborn Hippogriffs' was playing, and she tapped her foot with the beat. The song was soothing and she slowly dozed off, forgetting about corrupted Ministers, pending paperwork, stupid new recruits, jerk boyfriends and a certain green eyed wizard.

...

"Mistress? There is a man wanting to see you. Is you awake, mistress?"

Tracey woke up with a groan. She was still in her bath robe, the half-consumed cup of cold coffee sadly sitting in front of her. She blinked a few times to process her surroundings. Tolly was still waiting for a reply.

"Who's waiting for me Tolly?" she asked the slightly tensed house-elf.

"Tolly is not knowing him, mistress. He is saying he has a date with mistress." The elf said in a worried voice.

Tracey shot up immediately. Hurrying down towards the door, almost stumbling over the cat on her way, she mentally cursed herself. What if Potter decided to kill her, now that she knew his secret? What if he murdered her like one of his usual victims? It wouldn't be hard for him to forge a connection between her and some Death Eater group. She was a Slytherin, after all.

Carefully, she kept her wand pointed at the door, and peeked through the one-way-eyehole. He was really there, hands behind his back and whistling idly. _The Prophet would kill to get a picture of the Saviour waiting in front of her door. _She thought amusedly. On the other hand, she didn't want to imagine what story Romilda Vane would cook up. Preparing herself, she opened the door.

"Hello Tracey. It's rude to check out people from the other side of the eyehole for so long. I thought you would never open." He smiled charmingly, and held out an elegant bouquet of flowers he was holding behind his back.

"I see you forgot about our date. Shall I wait while you get appropriately dressed? Your shampoo smells very nice, by the way." He stepped in as a slightly shocked and breathless Tracey beckoned him inside. She blushed at the last comment.

"What do you want, Potter? If you are going to kill me, you can do it here. I doubt Tolly would be any trouble for you." She said, absently noting that she sounded sad, but not angry. Harry frowned.

"Have I stooped that low that when I ask a woman to a date she thinks I'm about to murder her? I might be a killer, Tracey, but I am still a man. Taking a pretty lady to dinner is still desirable to me." Once again she blushed and mentally kicked herself. _A little flirting and I have to blush like a fourteen year old._

"So what is your plan, Potter?" she asked coolly, though an observing person might notice the corner of her lips slightly rising.

"My first plan is to get you call me Harry. Then to send you to get dressed while I check out dear Romilda's magazine, and once you are ready, we are going to a muggle restaurant so that I'm not hunted by the reporters and crazy fans. Sounds good?"

She sighed. There was really no way out of it. And if she was being honest, she wasn't really looking for a way out. Pott... Harry was quite charming, had a confident, and somewhat cocky attitude that only served as an added attraction. And it didn't hurt that in the nicely cut black suit that accentuated his lean torso and wide shoulders, and those frameless glasses, he looked absolutely... delicious!

"Umm... okay, so you just wait here and I'll be back soon." She said, unnecessarily pointing at the soft green sofa, beside which a small basket was overflowing with copies of Prophet, Quibbler and The Lovely Witch. She turned around and headed upstairs, and sensed him looking at her.

"Stop checking me out, Harry." She called.

"What can I say Tracey, you have one of the finest bums I have ever seen."

She turned around, blushing like a tomato, to see him flash a cheeky smile at her.

...

"Have I mentioned that you look totally breathtaking?"

"Yes you have. And you look rather nice too." She said shyly. He flashed a crooked grin at her and opened the door for her. She had visited some muggle restaurants before, but none were as posh or demanded appreciation like the one Harry brought her to.

"Potter." He said to a man in tuxedo and bow tie, who checked his list and then respectfully requested them to follow him. They were led to a less crowded room, where the lighting was softer and the walls were warmer and classier.

After ordering the food, they fell to a comfortable silence, where they simply looked at each other and smiled.

Harry was appreciating the gorgeous specimen in front of him. Tracey Davis had a body worth worshipping. The maroon dress she was wearing hugged her perfect curves at the right places, and her hair, which was tied up in an elegant bun with a few strands escaping the confines of her hair pins, framed her face, amplifying her beauty. She was smart, confident, and drop-dead gorgeous. He knew many women would be jumping on their doorsteps with high heels if he promised them a date. And they would pee on themselves in the excitement when he finally turned up. But Tracey was nothing like them. She even forgot about the date and didn't even stutter when talking to him. That was always a plus point in the Saviour's book because most women he met nowadays almost fainted at the concept of speaking to him, or resorted to flash their panties at him with inviting looks. He despised them. Of course, there were women who acted normally, but they were all his childhood friends, or family. Hermione, Luna, Susan, Fleur, and... Ginny.

Tracey broke the silence after a few moments.

"So would you mind to share why you do this... dark business?"

"They deserve it." He replied shortly. Tracey wasn't satisfied with his answer. She didn't doll up and accompany him on a date to hear that. But before she started, he cut her off.

"Do you know what I do after shooting and then tying them down?" she shook her head.

"I use legilimency. I plant memories of the victims of their supported groups and make them go through the emotional pain. Call me sadistic, but that's what I do."

If Tracey looked horrified, she covered it well. "But criminals are supposed to be tried. Killing them isn't really a judgement."

"Tried, you say? Let me tell you something Tracey. You remember Sirius Black? He was my godfather. I know it's shocking. Guess what, he was innocent. He never did anything they accused him of. All of his crimes were actually committed by Peter Pettigrew, the supposed martyr. He was the real traitor, and he faked his death and escaped when Sirius cornered him."

"But if that's true, Black wouldn't have confessed in his trial." Tracey said, afraid that Harry was wrong with his facts. He laughed humourlessly at that.

"What confession? The only confession he did was to say 'it was all my fault' when the Aurors arrested him. That was because he felt guilty for suggesting my mum and dad to appoint Pettigrew as the secret keeper. He was supposed to be a decoy in case Voldy decided to hunt the secret keeper. He just wanted to keep my parents safe you see. Sirius Black never had a trial. He was thrown straight to Azkaban after capture. Check for the documents of Sirius Black's trial. They don't exist because there wasn't a fucking trial." He finished with venom and Tracey recoiled from the most powerful wizard alive.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to take it on you." He apologized a moment later. Feeling sorry for the man in front of him, she smiled a bit. A moment later, she tried again.

"I understand you have a bad experience, but most of the trials are fair and-"

"No they aren't. I was tried for underage magic in my fifth year, and if Dumbledore didn't turn up I would have been expelled in five minutes. The most cases, the judge decides the sentence before the trial takes place. Do you have any idea how many criminals walked away from Wizengamot just because the jury couldn't be bothered to look deep in to the case because they were in a hurry for lunch and wanted the trial to be over quickly? Do you know how many juries are bribed for each case? I know them. Do you know why we lost Madam Bones? Because Fudge wouldn't look at the facts in time, and when he did, he was too busy clinging to his fucking seat. You only know what you want to see, Tracey. Open your eyes. The world is beautiful and terrible in the same time." He sipped the wine and relaxed back to his seat.

She was struggling to find an argument that would hold against him. She was seeing his point, but still believed criminals should be tried first. She had an idea. It was kind of low, but it was her last resort.

"How do you live with yourself after killing in cold blood?" she asked softly, afraid that he would get offended and just show her how he killed in cold blood.

"How about I show you?" he said with a grin. Her heart nearly stopped. He was going to-

"There's a man I'm hunting tonight. How about you accompany me and see it yourself?"

Whatever Tracey expected, being murdered her most prominent expectation, this wasn't one of them. He actually wanted her to come with him to witness the murder. The logical side of her screamed at her to get out of the situation as fast as she could disapparate, but there was another side, a small, but strong side, that actually wanted to see how the Gryffindor Golden Boy killed. Without realizing what she was doing, she nodded in acceptance. Harry smiled wider.

"There you go, what an excellent girl you are! Now how about we stay away from that particular topic before we finish this lovely dinner?"

"That sounds acceptable." She said warmly, and he winked at her.

"So what is Weasley gonna say when she finds out you are dating another woman?" she asked, chewing a spicy strip of beef. He looked surprised.

"We broke up years ago. Didn't you know?" she shook her head and gave him a look asking him to carry on. "We weren't good for each other. She was hoping to find a perfect hero who would sweep her off her feet and pay attention to her every second of his life. Don't get me wrong, I actually loved her, but she couldn't handle the fact that I was away most of the time when I was an Auror. She hated that I have to maintain good relationships with many women just for work's sake. I wasn't perfect. After a year, we both knew where this was heading. So we broke up on friendly terms. I heard she experimented with the fairer sex for a couple of months. Not unlike what you and Daphne did in your sixth year."

"WHAT?" she shrieked. Thanks to the privacy charm, no one even looked at them. "How did you know that? Daphne wouldn't say that to anyone and I'm sure I didn't say that to anyone!" she whispered, red in face. He shook with suppressed laughter.

"I didn't know. I just made a wild guess and you confirmed it. I just saw you in the bathroom together." He smirked as she turned even redder. He actually saw their dots almost merged to one in the Marauder's Map when he was looking for Draco Malfoy. Back then, he thought they were doing whatever girls do when they are together; gossip and giggle. Who would've known Tracey and Daphne would be so horny?

Tracey could feel the heat from her face in her hands. She stepped in to another trap of Harry Potter and practically confessed doing 'experiments' with Daphne. Both of them were horny teen girls and Daphne got her hands on some outrageous toys. It didn't take long for her to convince Tracey. Though both of them enjoyed it, they decided they were not lesbians. It didn't 'feel right', as the Ravenclaw lesbian Su Li said it would, if they really played for the other team.

"You are infuriating, you know that?" she grumbled, who flashed a winning smile at her.

"I live to please, m'lady! So how was it? Are you really gay? Or bisexual?" he asked with interest, already knowing the answer.

"No! I mean it was amazing, but it didn't feel right." She whispered, with a still burning face, but also with a small smile. "I am still straight."

"Care to check that again tonight?" he asked cheekily and she glared at him, but she almost fainted thinking of having sex with the handsome hunk in front of her.

"Shut it, Potter." She growled. He grinned even wider.

"You actually want it! I can see it in your eyes. Why, you are quite naughty, Miss Davis."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her pink cheeks made him smile, if possible, even wider. After a short period of silence, he started normal conversation with her again. They talked about life in general and about the rumours circulating Harry, how the Prophet seemed to worship him for being able to brush his teeth every morning. He seemed to have a wide knowledge about her, and she suspected that he had disclosed a small part of it to her.

During the dinner, she understood the world did not know the real Harry Potter. The world knew a hero who defeated Voldemort, worked as an Auror for a couple of years, and then enjoyed a quiet retirement. The Harry Potter in front of her was powerful, cunning, charming, and apparently had a dark side, born out of the crap wizards threw at him on Sundays and expected him to save them on Mondays. Sometimes he was a terror to his enemies, and sometimes he was a lost teenager trying to make up for the lack of proper childhood. He craved to be normal, but he knew he wasn't meant to be normal. He was supposed to be the Saviour, even when he had to save them only from themselves.

"So shall we leave?" Tracey asked apprehensively, once he paid the bill and a large tip to their waiter. He smiled at her.

"Excited for the trip? No, we won't leave right now. This restaurant is my favourite among both worlds. Do you want to know why?"

"Umm... it looks magnificent? The food is excellent?" she tried, each time receiving amused negative reactions. She sighed and lowered her shoulders in a show of giving up. He smirked.

"Follow me, beautiful." He said, but offered a hand to her. She smiled and took his hand. He led her to a door at the back of the room. Curious, she opened the door, half expecting a wild party going on or something.

It was a balcony. She looked at him questioningly, and he urged her to go on.

Soft rays of moonlight welcomed her. Just a few yards from the boundary of the building, there was a beautiful lake. It was quite large, and there was an unearthly beauty in the way the rays of the almost- full moon was reflected in the lazily flowing water and illuminated the surrounding woods. The noise of the restaurant and the surrounding buildings did not reach here. The only sound was the melodious flow of water and the breeze wandering in the woods and grazing the lake.

"Beautiful." She whispered in awe. A hand gently cupped her waist. She sighed contently and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I know something that's more beautiful than this." He whispered and she shivered at his warm breath on her neck.

The reflected lights from the lake made her look like an angel. She looked at him, with wonder etched over her blue eyes, and a peaceful smile on her lips. He memorized the curves of those heavenly lips before he leaned in very slowly. She closed her eyes and tilted up her face. Very gently, he placed a hand behind her neck and the other hand cupped a soft cheek and he pressed his lips to hers.

He was firm and gentle at the same time. Slowly, they tasted each other's lips as they crushed against each other. Placing one hand in her back, he tried to deepen the kiss and she allowed him to. Their tongues danced slowly and passionately as they tasted each other. She started seeing fireworks in the back of her head. A kiss wasn't supposed to be this good.

Regretfully, she broke the kiss as her need for oxygen became too much to ignore. She gave him a dazzling smile and he pressed another short, brief kiss to her lips. Both of her hands were at his neck while his hands were holding her hips.

"You know how to sweep a woman off her feet, Mr Potter." She said, playfully nudging his chest with her head. He smirked and just stared at her eyes. They were like deep blue oceans. One couldn't simply look at them and not fall in love with those bright blue orbs.

After what seemed an eternity, he looked at his watch and sighed.

"Come on love, we have a criminal to kill." She shivered in apprehension and being called 'love' by him. She followed him out of the restaurant, their fingers linked and shoulders touching. They entered a dark alley, and he grabbed her hand tightly before disapparating away.

"What is this place?" she asked as they landed in front of a medium sized house. He didn't answer, rather tapped his index finger to the doorknob, which swung open to reveal a warm front hall.

"Welcome to my home, beautiful." He said with a smile. Her eyes widened.

"You... you live here? I expected something more... err..."

"Royal? Expensive?" he supplied. She nodded a bit abashedly.

"I don't want the money. I never wanted it. When I went after Voldemort, I just wanted to live in a small cottage near the sea where I will hold my wife in the moonlight, and our children would run around and have a normal, happy childhood, loved by their parents, and growing up, their biggest worries would be about how to ask out the prettiest girl or the most handsome guy in the class. Apparently, fate has other plans for me. She always had other plans for me."

Her heart broke at his sad smile. She went forward and hugged him comfortingly. He didn't deserve this. And the Wizarding World didn't deserve him. Sadly, you rarely get what you deserved. That was just the way of life.

"You sure you don't want to check if you are really straight?" he said cheekily as he felt her soft, smooth skin under his fingers. She released him and narrowed her eyes again.

"No sex on first date, Harry." She said with adorably pink cheeks. He smiled amusedly at her.

"If you say so." He beckoned her to follow him upstairs. He turned right and opened the door of a dark room for her. Raising one thin eyebrow, she entered and the room lightened. There was a desk and two comfortable armchairs at the middle, with many shelves covering the walls. All the shelves were full of wooden boxes, and she noticed a large stone basin on the desk.

"Is that a pensieve?" she asked curiously. He nodded and indicated her to take a seat. She sat nervously, noticing the change in his expressions. It was as if he left the flirting and charming man behind when he entered the room. He was now a man on a mission.

He came back with two vials of memories. He poured one of them to the basin and sat down in front of her. He had a hard, determined look in his eyes. "The target's name is David Higgins. His son, Terrence, was a Death Eater. I blame that totally on David Higgins. You'll understand when you see the memory. Are you ready?"

She nodded. He motioned her to enter the pensieve and he landed right beside her a second after she did. The memory was taken from a house-elf. She witnessed David Higgins teaching his son how muggles are scum and muggleborns are thieves. She watched as Terrence was punished when he said he had a muggle friend. She watched the old bastard ordering Terrence to join the Death Eaters as it would ensure the family's respect and wealth remain intact, if not increased, once the Dark Lord took over. She saw him donating gold to Yaxely for 'the noble cause'.

She felt murderous at the old bastard. Before she could get really angry, the memories were over. Harry had a blank look on his face and poured the second vial in the pensieve. This time, it was the memory of Terrence himself.

He was reluctantly taking the Dark Mark as his father looked greedily at his hand. He was provided with a young, naked muggle girl for 'practise'. She pleaded him to spare her, but he knew he had to torture her, because his master was watching him. He gathered his hatred towards his master and his father to cast his first unforgivable. The girl screamed, but she knew it was a very weak spell.

He was being yelled at by his father for showing weakness in front of the Dark Lord. He was told how he could never rise to his Inner Circle, and would always have to be another disposable pawn.

He was being tortured by his master because he was unable to capture Potter when he fled from his relatives' house. He knew it was really because his master was frustrated at Potter once again slipping through his fingers.

He was being arrested by the Aurors after the Battle of Hogwarts. His father had fled the country as soon as he heard the result of the epic duel between the Dark... Voldemort and Harry Potter.

It was his trial and evidence against him was brought to the jury before the judge asked, "How do you plead?" Closing his eyes and cursing himself softly for not killing his father, he said, "Guilty."

She found herself crying for the poor man. His whole life was practically destroyed by his father. She now knew how Harry lived with himself after murdering his victims.

"When do we kill him?" she asked quietly, but with a calm fire. He smiled before extending his hand.

"Now."

...

Tracey Davis had killed before. Three times, to be precise. Her victims were unfortunate enough to have caught some of her nasty curses at the wrong body parts. She always took a week off after each kill, to come to terms with it and convince herself that it was an accident and that she should be thankful that the accident didn't occur to her.

This time, however, she felt content. Harry taught her to shoot at the perfect spot of the stomach and she just pulled the trigger. He conjured thin wires that bound the obese man to the floor, gasping for breath and relieving the worst memories of the victims of his manipulations.

"Tracey?" he called softly.

"Hmm?"

She looked up from his shoulder, where he was leaning her head on. He had an arm around her, holding her close. He softly pressed a kiss to her lips. He could feel her smile on his lips.

"Would you be my girlfriend?" he asked, turning away from the dying man.

Her face was filled with shock and happiness. It faded a bit when she turned to look at the choking and sobbing man, who had an animalistic fear written on his face. She knew Harry was not your average boyfriend. She knew life with him would never be normal. She would have to deal with the media, vultures like Romilda Vane trying to ruin her life. She would have to live knowing that her boyfriend was technically a serial killer. She hadn't ruled out the possibility of being killed totally, either.

_But I am a Slytherin._

She knew she was acting more like a Gryffindor, but she remembered her mother telling her that sometimes you have to take a blind leap and just hope that someone on the other side will catch you. She was ready to take that leap.

She stood on her toes to kiss him and he met her halfway. The intensity of the kiss curled her toes. When she was once again out of breath, she pulled off again. She needed to do some excercise for the lungs.

"I'd love to." She said with a sweet smile.

A few feet behind them, Death smiled as he took another of his master's victim.

FIN.

_A/N: Review Please!_


End file.
